


Submarine

by MasonRust



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Hurt, Injury, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5134658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasonRust/pseuds/MasonRust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gordon has to rescue the personnel from a GDF submarine during a training exercise, and nothing goes to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Submarine

Gordon opened his eyes a second before his alarm shrieked through the room. Tapping it off, he lay back onto his pillow and was temped for a moment to go back to sleep. For the last week they’d been on almost non-stop calls from America to China to Brazil and back again, and they’d all started to feel the strain. With a sigh, Gordon pushed himself out and into his swimmers. It was still dark outside, the sun not even on the horizon yet. His shoes flapped all the way down the stairs and he chucked his towel down on one of the chairs before walking over to the end. With a deep breath, Gordon dived into the water and swam.

When he finished his laps the sun had finally dragged itself out of bed. Squinting in the light, he floated on his back, panting and staring up at the sky. The water was cool around his skin and Gordon grinned allowing his breath to return to normal. With a happy sigh, he kicked over to the edge and hauled himself out of the pool.

Gordon dripped all the way up the stairs, towel wrapped around his shoulders. Crunching down on an apple he’d stolen from the kitchen, he showered and returned to the living room, kicking his feet up onto the couch. Gordon loved the quiet of the house before anyone else had risen. He’d barely been there ten minutes before John’s hologram appeared over the table.   
“Gordon, I’ve received a distress call from a submarine taking on water.”  
John’s face in the hologram held no emotion as he delivered the call. Then again, unless something really bad was up he never did. Gordon had always sworn up and down that the man had a computer for a brain.   
“On my way.”  
“It’s close, so you shouldn’t need TB2. I’ll send the co-ordinates across to 4 now.”  
“FAB.”  
Jogging out of the room, Gordon took the stairs two at a time down into the hangar, punching his code into one of the doors along the wall. With a pneumatic hiss it slid open and he grabbed his uniform out, pulling it on as he went. It was almost impossible to get the suit on gracefully, and he hopped from either foot in an effort to pull it up properly. Gordon cursed Virgil and Scott and Alan and everyone but him for their fancy uniform put-er-on-ers as he almost went face first down the stairs. Outside the 4’s tank he zipped up the suit and pulled on his utility belt. Climbing up the side, Gordon slipped inside four and booted up his systems. John’s co-ordinates came through, as did the hologram of Brain’s face.  
“Ready to deploy Brains.”  
“F-fAB Gordon. Emptying tank now.”  
The tank opened into a sea cave in the side of the island, and Gordon steered four out into the open sea.   
Reaching up, he flicked on John’s hologram.   
“Any details?”  
“Their breach appears to be from an engine malfunction which tore a hole in the hull.”  
International Rescue didn’t question how the accidents happen. That wasn’t their job, although sometimes Gordon thought they should.  
“How deep are they?”  
“550 meters.”  
“That’s deep for a commercial vessel.”  
“Its GDF.”  
That explained the circumstances. Gordon had lost count of the amount of times they’d cleaned up after the GDF. ‘Training accidents’ and the like.   
“Right. Tell them I’m going to evacuate them one at a time.”  
“FAB.”  
Accelerating, Gordon tipped Four deeper into the water.

Only minutes later the submarine appeared in his window. It was in bad shape, the hull breach obvious even from his distance. John put him through to the crew.  
“This is International Rescue. I’m approaching your location. Please prepare for evacuation. How many on board?”  
“Will do. There’s 5 of us.”  
Gordon moved closer, deploying the claw and grabbing onto one side of the rapidly filling ship. Maneuvering closer, he began to cut a hole in the hull, not bothering with how much water it was going to let in. He was already racing the clock. Pulling on his helmet, Gordon dived into the water. It was silent at this depth, the only noise Gordon’s pulse in his ears. He swum closer to the ship, grabbing the sides of his hole and pulling himself through.   
“Thunderbird 2 is on its way.”  
“How did you manage to get Virgil out of bed?”  
The inside was in shambles, water filling the sub almost to the top. John’s reply came through his microphone weirdly clear.   
“Klaxons.”  
He couldn’t help a grin at that. Johnny always did have a way to push the bear out of bed. Gordon hauled himself up and into the control room, deploying his helmet. Five people stared back at him, helmets already in place.   
“Who first?”  
Someone moved over without reply and Gordon pulled his helmet back on and dived under, guiding them out of the ship. Once out, he opened four and loaded them into a dry tube.   
“First package away.”  
“FAB”  
Virgil’s voice made him grin slightly.   
“I didn’t think you’d be out of bed yet. It’s only 7.”  
“Ha. Aren’t there four more people for you to rescue Gordon?”  
“Step by step Virgil. Can’t be making any mistakes like Turkey.”  
Gordon cut the line just before Virgil had the change to swear at him and dived back into the water.

Three dry tubes away and two left, Gordon swam back through his hole. The control room was almost completely flooded, the last two floating in the water. Tapping his wrist at the second last, Gordon frowned, something crawling down his spine. Something was about to happen. Only second’s later, there was a scream of metal as the ship began to buckle and the whole thing jerked, throwing everything that wasn’t bolted down out of place. He grabbed the man and hauled him along, the clock well and truly against him now.   
“Gordon, you’re going to have to hurry up. The whole sub is buckling.”  
He didn’t bother to reply to John, already trying to navigate he way around floating debris. Pushing the man ahead of him, Gordon felt something catch on his upper arm and rip. Pain burned a white line down his arm and blood filled the water.   
“Shit.”  
“Gordon?”  
“Nothing.”  
Ignoring the pain, he managed to get the man into four, sending him up and away. Then he was back in the water, pain flaring up his arm as the sound of screeching metal filled the water again. Gordon surfaced in the control room and grabbed the final woman, practically dragging her out of the wreck. There was another scream and Gordon noticed his hole was buckling. The next scream was followed by a grinding hiss and then something smashed into Gordon’s back, drawing fire through his back. He was thrown forwards with the woman straight into the hole, and his helmet earned its keep yet again, not even quivering with the impact. Pushing the woman ahead of him as the submarine wailed again, Gordon saw red in the water. Panic flared through his system as he hauled himself through the oval and into the open water. He could feel the sting and burning pain across his back and he swam towards four. The woman was treading outside, and Gordon dragged them inside. He was bleeding bad. There was red dripping down his arm through the gash in his suit and there was something warm dribbling down his back.   
“I need you to get on and deploy the tube.”  
She followed the direction without question but a slight frown at the blood that was beginning to smear across everything. God bless the GDF and their ability to obey orders. Gordon deployed the tube and practically fell into the cockpit.   
“Fifth package away. Virgil, I’m going to need immediate docking in 2. I’ve got a couple of cuts and they’re not looking good.”  
“FAB, I’ve received all the packages. You’re good to go. Should I get out the kit?”  
Gordon flicked his eyes across the blood running down his arm and the pain in his back.   
“Yep. On my way up.”  
His hands were slipping on the controls as Gordon tried to get four up smoothly. The whole craft jolted as Virgil attached the rope and Gordon could barely focus he was in so much pain. There was another jolt as four finally docked. Gordon checked the hold, but Virgil had taken everyone out of the container. Deploying the controls, Gordon stood. And promptly fell against the wall, head spinning. Eyes bulging he managed to hold in the birth of a scream as the ship began to move. He could feel every movement through the pain in his back.   
“Gordon, I’m taking us to shore. How badly do you need first aid?”  
For a moment he didn’t reply, worried that if he did the scream was going to come out. Gordon clutched at his arm, blood dripping down around his fingers.   
“I’ll be okay for a couple of minutes.”  
Something must have come through in his voice, because Virgil’s pause seemed to stretch on for three long seconds.   
“FAB.”  
Grabbing onto one of the handles, Gordon shifted his weight managed to stand. Unfortunately, that brought screaming through his back and Gordon sagged against the wall. Stumbling through to the back, he grabbed one of the first aid kits off the wall, ripping it open. He pulled a pad from inside, pressing it onto his arm. Fumbling with a bandage, he wrapped that around too held on for dear life. Keeping one hand pressed into his arm, he wandered the other across his back, trying to find the source of the injury. Gordon’s fingers connected with the piece of metal and his blood ran cold. Feeling around, he noted the small pieces of shrapnel in his back and prayed it hadn’t been a lead pipe that burst. Or anything rusty. The last thing he needed was tetanus. He could feel 2 rumbling beneath the metal, and Gordon could feel himself getting light-headed. There was a slight shudder as Virgil put it on the ground, followed by the sound of the module deploying. Gordon stayed hidden in the ship as the crew exited, not wanting to move. There was the sound of 4’s door opening as Virgil climbed into the hold.   
“Gordon I-shit.”  
“Hey-ya Virgil.”  
Virgil didn’t smile back, moving over to Gordon far too fast.   
“Shit Gords, you said you were alright, you bastard.”  
“I am.”  
“No, you’re not.”  
Virgil scrabbled through the kit that Gordon had opened, pulling out bandages. He glared at Gordon’s arm like it had personally offended him.   
“Right, I’m going to bandage this then we’re going to lie you down, alright?”  
He pushed off Gordon’s hand and replaced it with his own, frowning as he unrolled the bandage. When he wrapped the strip of white around Gordon’s arm he hissed at the pain. Virgil wrapped it tightly, tying off the bandage before placing a hand on Gordon’s chest.   
“Lie down.”  
“My back.”  
“Your back- Gordon what the hell did you do?”  
He could see thoughts flicking behind Virgil’s eyes as he evaluated the situation. The furrow between his eyebrows deepened.   
“Right, on your side.”  
Gordon lay on his side, arm still elevated. Then he moved onto his back. Gordon balled up his fist as Virgil started poking around.   
“Right, you’re going to hospital. No way am I going to do this myself.”  
“I’ll be-“  
“Hospital. Do not move Gordon.”  
“Okay.”  
Gordon leaned his cheek against the side of the table, pain beginning to flare up again now that the adrenaline was draining out of his system. He vaguely heard Virgil talking to John or somebody and squeezed his eyes shut.   
“Gordon I want you to run me through the mission.”  
John’s voice in his ear almost made him start. He started to reel off how he’d gotten into the ship, the buckling and how he got the wounds on his body while John listened, asking the occasional question. Gordon had been so focused on John and his irritating attention to detail he hadn’t even realized they’d landed. There was the sound of people and Virgil appeared with a man at his side.   
“We’re going to move you now Gordon, and I need you to keep still as much as you can.”  
Virgil hovered as they loaded him onto the gurney and wheeled him out of two.   
“Stop worrying. That’s Scott’s job.”  
“Just wait until he finds out about this. He’ll wring your neck before shoving soup down your throat for the next week.”  
Virgil smirked at Gordon’s grimace. Injured, he’d be at Scott’s mercy and boy could that man mother.  
“We’re going to take him in now.”  
“I’ll wait outside.”  
The man pushed the gurney off and away from Virgil. Gordon lay his cheek against the white material.   
“Alright Gordon, we’re going to give you a local anesthetic and put you back together.”  
Gordon found that he was all right with that.

The hospital room was too bright, and Gordon wanted to go home. He hated hospitals. The laceration on his arm had taken 12 stitches. Gordon was trying not to remember his back, which was currently screaming at him. He shifted uncomfortably and looked out the window. The sky was clear and blue, and Gordon didn’t know what country he was in. He never really did. Someone knocked on the door. He shifted his gaze back to the door, taking in Virgil and the doctor with the wheel-chair.   
“Home time.”  
Gordon wanted to kiss his brother then. They loaded him into the chair and pushed him out into the hall, and Virgil received instructions from the doctor. Minutes and a signed piece of paper later and they were in 2 and away. Gordon couldn’t wait to get home.

He sat in the deck chair with his legs propped up, arm resting on the side and back carefully not touching the chair. The white bandages were in stark contrast to his skin, and Gordon gazed at the water longingly.   
“No water until till they dissolve.”  
“Yes mum.”  
Gordon rolled his eyes at Scott.   
“I have had stitches before.”  
“I could see you thinking about it.”  
“I wasn’t”  
“Yes you were.”  
“How about just my toes?”  
“No.”  
Scott frowned at him again.   
“No water.”  
“Buzz kill”  
Gordon went back to watching the water and decided it was time to move before temptation set in. Despite what Scott thought, he was slightly sensible.  
Sitting across the couches in the same position he was when John had called, Gordon watched as the hologram appeared and disappeared, informing them of every disaster from here to Tokyo. As the sky grew dark, he found his eyes drifting shut and before he fell into sleep felt someone put a blanket over him.   
“How bad is it really?”  
John’s voice was soft, and Gordon was too tired to tell him that he was fine.   
“He’ll be alright, but no swimming for a while.”  
“Careful the fish doesn’t die while he’s out of the water.”  
“Already on it.”  
“And Scott?”  
“Hm?”  
“Stop worrying. He’s fine.”  
Gordon found himself smiling a sleepy smile. Amen to that John.


End file.
